


between hurting & healing

by lafbaeyette



Series: domestic life [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-30 21:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/lafbaeyette
Summary: Frances unexpectedly meets a girl. That girl changes her life, and teaches her more than she knew she didn't know.--Sequel to Domestic Life Was Never Quite My Style





	1. mother's day

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you read that right. This is the sequel to domestic life. If you came here from where the resemblance stops--forget it. None of that is relevant, _this_ is the story I want to tell. What do you need to know? 
> 
> Alex & John got married when Frances was about 13. Philip and Georges exist here. It's gonna be a ride. 
> 
> I hope you're ready because I am. School is over, I actually have an outline. Let's go.

The smell of eggs, bacon, and fresh waffle batter filled the air as Frances buzzed around the kitchen. Hair pulled back into a loose bun, already dressed for the day in a light blue spring dress and tights, she busied herself with the omelets on the stove in front of her as the waffle maker warmed next to her. It was still early, the sun was just peeking up over the horizon, and she placed the omelets onto two separate plates and moved on to the waffles. Pulled the bacon from the oven. Heard her two sleepy fathers stumble from their bedroom and into the kitchen, turned to see the confusion written across their tired faces.

“What did we do?” Alex muttered, cursing under his breath when John elbowed him in the side.

“Good morning.” Frances ignored the question and the curse, dancing across the small kitchen with the two plates and placing them on the table. “Happy Mother’s Day. I knew Alex would get offended if I only made him breakfast, so I made it for you both.”

They looked at each other, finally understanding, but Frances didn’t give them a chance for any questions. She walked up to them, kissing them both on the cheek, and moved between them.

“I’m going out, I can pick up lunch if you want me to.”

“Where are you going?” John turned to the girl, watching her pull her jacket from the hook next to the door and refusing to look at him. Alex sidestepped toward the table, pulling a piece of bacon from the plate and nibbling on it. He wanted to cry out that it was the best bacon he’d ever had in his life, but he knew he had to back John up and be a firm father figure.

“Out.” Frances repeated, digging through her purse as if looking for something. She knew everything was where it needed to be, she just didn’t want to look up.

“Sixteen year olds don’t get to go ‘out’.” John said, voice firm. Frances held back a groan. “Sixteen year olds tell their fathers where they’re going, then they get to leave.”

“It’s Mother’s Day, Dad, where do you think I’m going?” Frances finally looked at him, thankful her voice hadn’t shook. But she could feel herself shaking on the inside, feel her resolve already beginning to crumble.

John was silent and Alex sat the bacon down.

“Your father and I will take care of lunch,” Alex said, placing a hand on John’s lower back. “Take your phone, call us if you’re going to be out past three, just for our peace of mind.”

Frances nodded and left.

“Shit.” John breathed.

“Stop guilt tripping yourself.” Alex grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tugged him toward the table.

“I should have made that connection; I shouldn’t have been so harsh.” John fell into a chair, ran a hand through his hair, still messy from sleep.

“I didn’t make it either. It’s okay, John, you’re a concerned father. You’re a  _ good  _ father.” Alex nudged his foot beneath the table. “Now can we eat before it gets cold, because Frances makes the best goddamn bacon I’ve ever had.”

* * *

 

The air was crisp. It was May, it should be sunny and 70 degrees, and nice—but it wasn’t. It was cloudy, the air was crisp and it almost felt like fall. It didn’t feel like the Mother’s Days she remembered as a little girl—not that she could remember many with her mother. She only remembered one, actually, the rest were spent with John, and Alex, sometimes her uncles Lafayette and Hercules. When she was younger they would do crafts, watch movies, make cookies or cake. They would light a candle, in honor of her. It was lavender—John said it was all he could remember about her, that she loved lavender. Frances wished she could remember something, but she was a child when she passed. Not even school-aged. She had spent more of her life now with John and Alex than with the woman who gave birth and took care of her as an infant.

All because of a faulty heart. A faulty heart that she inherited, though hers was just a little less broken than her mother’s. Hers was fixable. Hers was fixed.

She lifted a hand to her chest, feeling the barely-there scar from the surgery she had when she was young. Hardly six and having open heart surgery. And it fixed her heart, and she was okay. She still went in for check-ups every so often, just to make sure everything was still functional. So far, she was okay.

Her mother had been okay at sixteen, too. But she didn’t know she needed to be on the lookout for anything. Sometimes Frances wondered what her life would be like if her mother hadn’t gotten sick, if her heart hadn’t given out. She probably wouldn’t know John, or maybe she would.

Maybe her mother would have reached out to him, maybe she would have convinced him to be part of their lives. Maybe they would have been a big, happy family. Maybe she would have gotten John and Alex and Hercules and Lafayette and the Schuylers,  _ and  _ her mother.

Or maybe she wouldn’t.

Maybe it would have been just her and her mother, or maybe her mother would have met the man of her dreams and it would be the three of them. Or maybe they would have another daughter, or a son, and Frances would have gotten siblings.

Or maybe she wouldn’t.

The closest Frances had to siblings right now was Lafayette and Hercules’ son, Georges, or ten-year-old Philip, who’s biological father was Alex, but Eliza and her fiancée, Maria, were his mothers. He got two mothers to spend Mother’s Day with. Two living, breathing mothers that loved him and didn’t have faulty hearts.

But Frances had two fathers for Father’s Day, so maybe she shouldn’t complain.

Or maybe she should.

It didn’t feel fair that her mother was dead. It really didn’t seem fair that she couldn’t  _ remember  _ her. The lavender candle, it smelled familiar, she could believe that it had been her mother’s favorite because something about it brought back the vague memory of childhood. The vague memory of her mother. But that was all. She couldn’t remember her voice, her face, or even her hair. She couldn’t remember how she used to dress, or how much makeup she used to wear. She could hardly remember her name sometimes.  _ Martha Manning _ . She didn’t even get to have her mother’s name. And that wasn’t fair.

Or maybe it was.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

Frances wasn’t sure. She could feel her chest getting tighter as she walked through the headstones, bringing herself back to the reality of  _ now _ . This moment. She was walking through the graveyard, a few flowers in hand. It was still early, there was a layer of fog that made it hard to see more than twenty feet in front of her, and the wind blew gently and sent a shiver down her spine.

She knelt in front of a familiar headstone.

 

**_Martha Manning._ **

**_Beloved mother, daughter, and friend_ ** **.**

 

That was all she knew about her mother now. That she was a beloved mother, daughter, and friend. But friend to who? Who were her parents? Frances’ grandparents?

She’d only ever met one grandparent, Henry Laurens, who seemed very upset at her existence. That had 

been when she was eight. A little over two years after she started living with John, he finally told his father about her. Her eight-year-old mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea that Henry Laurens hadn’t known about her all this time, but eight years and a couple visits later, she understood. Sometimes she wished he still didn’t know, because he wasn’t very nice to John about it.

“I bet your parents would have been nice,” she murmured, placing the flowers into a vase next to the headstone. “I don’t remember if they ever got to meet me, but I hope they did. And I bet they would have been nice. You don’t become the beloved daughter of not-nice parents. You would have been a nice parent, too. Dad and Papa are nice, but sometimes I wish I had you, too.”

Frances sniffled, wiping at her eyes. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she was hit with a hurricane of emotions, her chest tight and her lower lip trembling. She curled in on herself and sobbed, sitting in the damp grass in front of her mother’s grave in the early morning that May. Hugging her body, she rocked back and forth, trying to calm down and trying to breathe.

That’s why she had to come so early. So she could cry, and not bother anyone else visiting their dead mothers. She wasn’t sure if crying would be too bothersome, or expected in a cemetery, but she didn’t want people hearing her cry anyway.

But you can’t always get what you want.

The next time Frances leaned back and looked at the headstone, a small pack of tissues sat next to it. She looked around, vision blurry but still able to make out a figure standing in front of a grave a few feet away. Frances grabbed a tissue, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, and kissed the center of the headstone before standing. She picked up the rest of the pack and slowly approached who she thought they could belong to.

The other girl looked up as she approached, eyes wet but no tears had fallen. Her hair was braided tightly down her back, face blank but the corner of her mouth turned up slightly when she saw the tissues in Frances’ hands.

“Are these yours?” Frances held the plastic pack out and the other girl took it.

“Sorry if it was intruding, I just thought you might need some.” The girl’s voice was soft, but not shaky like Frances’. It was strong, and nice.

“Thank you.” The girl took the tissues from Frances, glanced back at the grave in front of her, and finally turned to Frances. “I’m Theo.”

“Frances.” They shook hands and Frances pointedly ignored how warm Theo’s hand was and the way the touch made her feel. She was just lonely and sad; she would enjoy any human interaction at this point.

“Was it… your mom?” Theo gestured to the grave she had just been sitting in front of and Frances shifted, nodding. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yours, too.” Frances responded immediately, looking at the headstone next to Theo. Theo glanced down at her feet.

“My mom, too.” She said. “But I was just a baby… she died having me.”

“Shit, that sucks.” Frances clapped a hand to her mouth immediately. “I’m sorry.” But Theo was laughing. Laughing in a cemetery felt wrong, but Frances let herself smile at the sound of Theo’s laugh.

“It’s okay,” Theo said. “It does suck. But my dad, he has these videos of them before I was born. You know, going on vacation and stuff, and while she was pregnant. So, it’s almost like I know her.”

“That’s really nice.” Frances frowned. “My dad doesn’t have anything like that.”

“That sucks.” Theo repeated. Frances laughed this time, an almost startled sound that made Theo laugh in response. Suddenly they were both laughing hard and crying in front of Theo’s mother’s grave. Frances fell to her knees and Theo followed suit. They ended up leaning into each other as they laughed until the calmed down and each grabbed a tissue to dab at their eyes and blow their nose. The dual action made them start laughing all over again.

Finally, they stopped, and they sat there in the grass in silence. Frances looked back at the other headstone.

 

**_Theodosia Bartow Burr_ **

**_Mother, Daughter, Sister, Wife_ **

**_An angel on Earth, returned to her home_ **

 

Theo’s mother’s headstone had so much more detail, at least it felt like it to Frances. She could just imagine the woman, described as an angel on Earth.

“Theodosia is a really beautiful name.” Frances commented, trying to ignore how much better Theo’s mother’s grave seemed than her own. How much better Theo’s memory of her mother seemed to be than her own, and Theo had never even met her.

Theo seemed startled by the compliment, until she noticed Frances looking at the headstone. “It is. I guess that’s why she gave it to me.”

Frances swallowed her jealousy and looked back at the girl, taking in her darker complexion, her eyes that held secrets Frances could only hope to know, and the subtle curve of her smile that almost suggested she’d tell her. “I think it’s fitting. On you.”

“It is?” Theo’s smile spread even wider as Frances nodded.

“I’m sure it was fitting on her as well, of course. But it’s fitting on you especially.”

“Thank you.”

Frances checked her phone for the time, and in case she had any texts from her dads. No messages, and it was nearly noon. She moved to stand.

“I should get going.”

“Me, too.” Frances helped the other girl to her feet, their fingers lingered together. Frances pretended she didn’t notice.

“It was nice to meet you.” Theo said, shaking Frances’ hand again.

“You, too.”

The girls parted ways, Frances headed toward home and Theo away. She thought about Theo as she walked home, eventually drifting away from the jealousy over her mother’s epitaph and into a sadness that she would probably never see the girl again. Their meeting was by chance, a strange happenstance. She didn’t even know if Theo lived around here, or if she had to make a special trip to visit her mother’s grave.

* * *

 

“How was the trip?” Alex was the only one around when Frances got home, hanging her purse and coat up by the door. He sat on the couch, book folded over one knee to mark his place. She collapsed next to him, dropping her head into his lap.

“Sad.”

“That’s expected.” Alex combed his fingers through the girl’s hair. “Do you feel better?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want to talk?”

Frances’ shoulders bounced and she turned onto her side, burying her face into the material of his shirt. Her voice was muffled when she spoke now. “I just miss her.”

“I feel that.”

Frances turned her head up to look at him. “You do?”

“I lost my mom when I was ten,” he explained. “She got sick, too. We both got sick, actually, but I got better and she didn’t.”

“Oh.” Frances frowned. “I’m sorry, Papa.” She had never considered Alex’s parents, or John’s for that matter outside of Henry Laurens. Sure, she’d wondered why she never met any other grandparents like the other kids who brought all four to Grandparents Day at school.

“It’s okay, Fran. Your dad lost his mother, too, when he was young.” Frances’ frown deepened. “I’m just telling you this so you know that we understand, we’ve both been there. We’re still there. So, you can come to us, you can talk to us.”

Frances sat up, wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck, and hugged him. He hugged her back, rubbing her back and kissing her temple.

“I love you.” She said.

“We love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think in comments, with kudos, or come stop by my tumblr @hypeulesnochilligan!
> 
> See you next time, as we continue this journey together.


	2. maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frances runs into a familiar face at the store

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the positive feedback! Glad you all are enjoying it thus far, and I hope that continues! 
> 
> Special thanks to Indi (the_other_51) for reading/editing this chapter for me, because they're amazing and I'm so bad at doing that on my own and always need a second opinion

“Fran, can you go to the store and pick up some things?” John pulled a few bills out of his wallet and held them out as the girl picked herself up from the couch. “I’ll send you a list, Al will be home soon and he’s going to yell at me again if I don’t have dinner started yet.”

“Okay, but have you considered: actually being prepared to start dinner before Papa gets home?” Frances grinned as her father rolled his eyes. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

“Thank you.” John kissed her forehead before she left.

The store was just around the block. Frances’ phone buzzed with a shopping list from her father as she descended the stairs and stepped out onto the street. The weather had cleared up and it finally felt like mid-May, she was able to go out in her tank top and shorts and still be comfortably warm. The sun shone down on her skin, she felt happy. Much happier than she had a few days ago, when she spent probably too long crying over her mother’s grave and then laughing in a cemetery with Theo.

Theo. She still thought about Theo a lot, if she would ever see her again. The chances were slim. She lived in New York City, population a gajillion. The chances of her running into Theo again were one in a billion, so she didn’t get her hopes up. She enjoyed the memory of laughing with the girl, and buried the jealousy she still felt over her mother.

Jealousy was a popular emotion in Frances’ brain lately. She still felt that twinge of jealousy when she scrolled through Facebook and saw the pictures of everyone celebrating Mother’s Day—it had been three days, why were they still posting pictures? But Frances swallowed it down. She had two dads that loved her. She had hardly known her mother; did she even have a right to be upset about her death? Still?

Frances strolled into the cool air conditioned store and opened the message from John. Milk, chicken, and breadcrumbs. Easy enough. She headed to the dairy section.

* * *

“John, you’ll  _ never fucking guess  _ who’s back.” The front door flung open, seemingly by the sheer force of Alex’s shouting. John stepped out of the kitchen, a concerned look on his face. “A—is Frances home?”

John shook his head.

“Right. Aaron  _ motherfucking  _ Burr.”

John recognized the name, someone Alex used to work with when he first started working with Washington.

“Can you fucking believe this guy? Washington offered him a spot when he left the firm, which he denied thank god, but  _ years  _ later he comes crawling to Washington wanting a position. And he  _ gave  _ him one!”

“You all just expanded, I’m sure he needed—” John stopped at the look Alex was giving him. That was not the thing to say at the moment. He changed his tone. “How  _ dare  _ he?”

“Exactly, how  _ dare  _ he. Now he’s going to be all up in my position, trying to take over  _ my  _ job—”

“Honey, honey, calm down.” John put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “It’s going to be fine, trust George. He probably knows what the hell he’s doing. Take a breath.”

Alex did so, nodding, though he was still obviously displeased. He changed the subject. “Where’s Frances?”

“Store.” John took a few steps back, moving into the kitchen—and away from Alex. “Picking up some things for dinner.”

“You forgot to start dinner until the last minute again, didn’t you?” Alex followed John into the kitchen.

“No.” John tried to defend himself, but once Alex was in the kitchen he could see that John hadn’t started anything. He laughed, not mad like John had expected. Instead, Alex crowded John against a counter, kissing his jaw.

“I guess we’ll just have to find something else to do until she gets back with food for dinner.” Another kiss on his neck. Followed by another on his cheek, and a nip at his lips.

“You just want to mess around because you’re angry over Burr.” John accused. Alex nodded, unashamed.

“I can respect your honesty.” He closed the space between them and kissed his husband.

“ _ Mon petit lion _ !” The front door flew open again with the force of a new voice. John pulled back with a groan, which Alex matched. The door closed and they heard three sets of feet enter the living room.

“Did you invite them?” John asked. Alex looked sheepish, and nodded.

“I forgot.”

John rolled his eyes but stepped around Alex, grabbing his hand and dragging him along, to greet their guests.

“Lafayette, Herc!” John wrapped each in a brief hug, then looked down at the teenager. “And Georges, you’re growing so much.” John ruffled his hair and Georges preened under the attention.

“ _ Papa _ says I’m beginning to look just like him at my age.” Georges tilted his head to look at Lafayette, who was grinning and ran a hand through the young boy’s hair.

“ _ Yes, a handsome young man _ .” Lafayette agreed in French.

“Lafayette’s been stretching the truth about what he really looked like back then,” Hercules stage whispered. Lafayette punched him in the arm, a playful punch that made Hercules laugh. “I’m just sayin’, the boy’s not nearly as lanky—thank God he’s adopted.”

The group laughed.

“Where’s Franny?” Georges asked, looking around as if maybe he just hadn’t spotted her yet.

“She ran out to the store, she’ll be back in a little bit.” John said. He scratched the back of his neck. “And, uh, dinner will be a bit, too.”

“We expected no less.” Hercules sat down on the couch, Georges following his lead. Alex sat in a chair next to them and started asking Georges about school, his friends, whatever it was you asked fourteen-year-olds about.

“Ah, John,” Lafayette put a hand on John’s shoulder and gestured to his neck. “You two may want to be a bit more careful.”

John put a hand to his neck, not even surprised at the suggested mark there honestly. His face felt hot and he nodded.

* * *

Frances couldn’t remember what kind of milk they usually had. She knew Alex was lactose intolerant, but that typically didn’t stop him. Should she buy the lactose free milk? Or maybe skim milk, that sounded like it should be easier on his stomach. She was about to text her dad to ask when a semi-familiar voice caught her attention.

“Frances?”

Frances looked up. Theo, right in front of her again but this time at her regular grocery store.

“Hey.” She felt stupid. That was the best she could do?

“I thought it was you, hey. How have you been?” Theo was smiling and that made Frances want to smile.

“Good. Do you live around here? I’ve never seen you around before, well, before the other day.”

“Do you know all the regular shoppers?”

Frances’ ears turned red, face heating up. That was a stupid question, of course she wouldn’t know every single person that shopped here. Maybe Theo’s father was the regular shopper for all she knew, just because she was new to her doesn’t meant she was new at all.

Theo pulled her out of her spiraling self-hatred over dumb questions. “Hey, I’m joking. We did just move here, actually. My dad and I. He moved upstate just after I was born, but he just got a job in the city so, we’re back.”

“Oh, congratulations to him.” Frances turned back to the milk, making a decision and grabbing the skim milk. Alex could always get those pills, or just not drink the milk. “What’s he do? What are you here to get?”

“Breakfast stuff.” Theo held up a pack of yogurt.  “Dad needs things he can grab and go. He’s working for this big law firm- I don’t really remember what he does.”

Frances laughed. “My Papa’s the same—I really have no idea what he does, but it involves a lot of numbers and he’s really proud of working for a law firm.” That made Theo laugh, too. Frances gestured toward the meat section, “I’ve got to get a few more things.”

“Do they have good bacon here?”

“Isn’t all bacon good bacon?”

“You would be surprised.” The girls walked toward the frozen meat section, though they weren’t really paying attention to their shopping.

“So your dad’s a lawyer, too?” Theo asked.

“One of them is, kind of. I think he deals more with finances and stuff now? I kind of zone out when he starts talking about work, honestly.” Frances laughed.

“Oh, you have two dads?”

Frances froze. It had been years, nearly everyone she encountered at this point knew about her family situation, she didn’t even think about how new people would react.

“Yeah, I do…” She tried to keep her voice natural, if she made it sound normal maybe Theo would accept it as normal. “My dad, the other one, he’s a doctor.”

“Shit, you’ve got a lawyer and a doctor?” Theo didn’t comment further on the two dads. Frances was relieved. “Big shoes to feel, you must be a freakin’ genius.”

Frances laughed again. It was the most laughing she’d done in a while, at least with anyone other than her family. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends, it’s that a lot of people thought the two dads thing was very strange. Even here, in the middle of Manhattan, people were very… avoidant. And homophobic. She tried to block it out, ignore it. She hadn’t been bullied for it since her first years of middle school, but now it was just kind of lonely.

But maybe she had found a friend.

_ Or maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself, Frances, you just met her. _ Frances cleared her throat.

“They want me to be.” She shrugged. “It was great running into you again, but I told my dad I’d be quick. He’s waiting to start fixing dinner.”

“Of course, right, sorry to keep you.” Theo’s smile faltered, for only half a second, before she turned and grabbed a pack of bacon.

“Do you maybe want my number or something, though?” Frances blurted out. Theo looked back her, that smile inching back onto her face, in an honest form.

“Of course.”

They exchanged phones, putting their own numbers in, before parting. Frances collected the rest of the ingredients John had requested before heading home and finding a full house.

“Hey, Franny!” Georges bolted from the couch as soon as Frances came through the door. “I just had a growth spurt, look how tall I am!”

“Whoa,” Frances took in the boy in front of her. They hadn’t seen each other in about a month, but already he had shot up to her height. “ _ You’re nearly taller than me _ .” She often used Georges and her uncle Laf to practice French, John had always stressed how importantly being bilingual could be. Though, technically she was becoming trilingual since the school didn’t offer French and she had to take Spanish instead.

“ _ Soon I will be! _ ” Georges took the bags from Frances and handed them off to John, who disappeared into the kitchen still talking to Hercules. Alex was still in his chair, Lafayette perched on the arm as they whispered back and forth aggressively.

“ _ What are they talking about _ ?” Frances sat down on the couch, Georges next to her.

“ _ I don’t know, something boring and grown-up probably _ .”

“ _ You’re aware we’re both fluent in French, _ ” Alex broke off from his conversation with Lafayette to look at the two kids, quirking a brow.

“I got some new posters in my room, wanna see?” Frances stood up and took Georges arm, pulling him through the kitchen and toward her bedroom.

Frances pointed out the new posters on her wall, one for a band Georges had showed her and the other for a movie she had taken Philip to see. Georges sat down on the edge of Frances’ bed just as a text tone filled the room. Frances pulled her phone from her pocket, checking the screen and catching herself smile when she saw Theo’s name pop up.

“Who’s that?” Ever perceptive, Georges knew something was up.

“No one.” Frances quickly typed out a reply and sat her phone down. “So, what’s new? Are uncle Laf and Herc still ridiculous?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“There wasn’t a subject to be changed, I’m simply bringing up a subject.”

Frances’ phone went off again.

“Who’re you texting?” Georges insisted.

“Just some girl I met.” Frances shrugged it off, because it wasn’t important. Theo texted again and she ignored it this time, because it wasn’t important. Just someone she met, Theo could wait.

“You want to read it.”

“I’m here with you, doesn’t matter.” Frances tried to bring up a new topic, again, but Georges kept bringing it back to the text and Theo.

“Is she pretty?”

“I guess.” Frances glanced at her phone, another text.

“Read it.”

Frances picked up her phone. She laughed sharply at one of the texts before replying and slipping it back into her pocket.

“You like her.”

“Wha-?” Frances rolled her eyes. “I don’t. Jesus, Georges, just because you’re the gayest kid in lower Manhattan doesn’t mean  _ everyone  _ is.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m  _ not _ .” She was. She turned around and started going through her closet, mostly for something to do with her hands.

“What’s she look like?”

“I don’t know, just… a girl.” Frances sighed. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Well,  _ I _ met a boy.”

“Boys are very easy to come by.”

“You know what I mean.” Georges huffed and laid back on Frances’ bed. “He’s a very pretty boy. He has dark hair and bright eyes that lead straight into his soul. It’s like he can see through me, see everything about me when our eyes meet. Also, he has a six pack—according to one of my friends, I’ve personally never seen his abs  _ but  _ my friend is a very credible source.”

“Have you spoken to this boy?” Frances leaned against the frame of her closet door, watching Georges smile.

“Only once, I asked if I could borrow a pencil. He said yes.” Georges sat up suddenly, looking at her with a completely love struck look on his face. “I think we could fall in love.”

Frances snickered. “You’re so precious and full of hope.” She ruffled Georges bangs and sat down next to him. “Don’t let the universe take that from you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Franny.” Georges grabbed her wrist. “I’m serious. There’s a rumor that he’s gay, too—what if he’s  _ the one _ ?”

“You should talk to him and find out.”

“I plan to.”

Frances grinned again, shaking her head. She may not have many friends from school, but she did have Georges and Philip. They were like family to her. Lafayette and Hercules had adopted Georges a couple years after John got Frances, he was nearly six—and they fell in love with him. He was a small boy with skin a shade darker than Frances’, hair that was typically cut short but now it hung past his ears with bangs that nearly hit his eyelashes.

Lafayette had met him through one of the programs Washington’s firm held, which is why after they adopted him they changed his name to Georges Washington Louis Gilbert de Lafayette—extravagantly long to match Lafayette’s. His name had originally been Louis, his parents had always explained, and they didn’t want him to lose who he had been for the five years before they had met. Gilbert, of course, came from Lafayette’s name and they had agreed to use Lafayette’s last name (“We flipped a coin,” Lafayette would joke, while Hercules would answer more seriously, “Laf’s going to do something, and go far, and that name is going to help him in the future”).

Frances had met him not long after, and they were best friends very quickly. Philip was born about a year later, and completed their trio. Frances didn’t have many friends from school, but her family was thus far more than enough.

Her phone buzzed again in her pocket.

But maybe she had found a friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr: @hypeulesnochilligan


	3. meet the de Noailles'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet two new Parisians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the day of Updates! Thank you all so much for your support!

“Did you know Franny’s in love with a girl?”

Frances smacked Georges wrist, causing him to drop the cards he had been holding and revealing his hand to the group. Georges cried out, but Frances shouted over him.

“I am not!”

Philip watched the other two, amused, as they started smacking at each other and their shouts turned to hushed whispers. He looked down at the single card in his hand—a red three—then at the discard deck—a red seven—and placed his card down.

“I win.” His voice made the other two stop and stare at him, baffled.

“But it was my turn, that’s cheating!” Georges cried.

“You weren’t taking your turn, I assumed you skipped.” Philip’s shoulders bounced as he collected the cards and began shuffling. “Round six?”

“You’re on.” Georges snatched Frances’ cards and pushed them over to Philip with the pile of his own cards.

“Who’s the girl Franny’s in love with?” Philip asked as he shuffled. Frances rolled her eyes.

“I’m not in love with a girl, I just might have a _friend_.”

“You know we’d still love you if you loved a girl, right?”

“I made the assumption, seeing as we were all raised by gay parents.”

“That makes us more empathetic.” This was from Georges, who watched Philip do a bridge with the cards in amazement.

“Well, I don’t love a girl. I hope you can still love me if I’m straight.”

Georges turned his gaze to Frances, looking her over and crinkling his nose. Finally, with a heavy sigh he said, “I guess we can try.”

“So, who’s your new friend then?” Philip brought the topic back around, trying to act less curious than he was.

“Her name’s Theo. She’s nice, and funny. You’d like her, she’s been sending me memes for three days straight.” Frances grabbed her phone and unlocked it, opening her texts with Theo and turning the screen to him. He read through some of the images, grinning.

“Doge, outdated but always a classic so I’ll let her slide.” Philip shook his head and dealt the cards. “You should invite her over, she could play with us.”

“Nah, I doubt she’d want to.”

“She’s your friend isn’t she?”

“More of an acquaintance.” Frances frowned. “We’ve only been talking for a few days, and I’ve only spoken to her face to face, like, twice—both times on accident. That hardly accounts for a friendship.”

“If you invited her over, you would become better friends.” Philip was reasonable for a thirteen-year-old. Sure, sometimes he was hell on Earth if he was in a mood, but he was also brilliant. He was biologically Alex’s son, after all.

Sometimes Frances wished _she_ were biologically Alex’s. Alex was brilliant, and sure some of his brains may rub off because he never stops talking, he can teach her a lot, but she would never be as naturally brilliant as him. Philip obviously got that trait, and it was another thing that made her a little jealous. Not that John wasn’t smart, but he wasn’t Alexander Hamilton levels of genius. And sometimes, Frances isn’t even sure if she got _John’s_ brain, and she wonders how smart her mother was. But she would never know, because she was too young when she died and no one had ever really known her.

Frances threw that line of thinking away, instead putting all of her focus into their game of Uno.

“I agree with Pip; you should invite her over.” Georges started off the round, weakly because Frances immediately reversed it back and he had to draw three cards before getting a match. He grimaced but turned to look at Frances as Philip took his turn. “I want to meet her.”

“I really don’t think she’d want to—Hey!” Frances dropped her cards and grabbed Philip’s wrist as he grabbed her phone. He switched hands, pulling up Frances’ conversation with Theo and typing quickly before Frances managed to retrieve it from him.

_Me: Hey would you want to come over and hang out?_

Frances was typing out an apology, an explanation, something, when Theo’s reply came through.

_Theo: Love to!_

_Oh_.

“She said yes.” Frances looked up at Philip and Georges. “Oh shit, she said yes, now what?” Philip rolled his eyes at her and took her phone again, sending Theo the address.

_Theo: See you soon!_

* * *

“Why did you offer our car again?” Maria muttered to Eliza, watching Lafayette pace back and forth in front of baggage claim.

“Because I’m a good friend.” Eliza leaned against the wall, wrapping an arm around Maria’s waist and kissing her temple. “We are good friends, and Lafayette is anxious about his friend flying in.”

“I’m jealous of John and Herc.” Alex said next to them. “They got an excuse to not be here.”

“They’re at work.” Eliza said.

“Exactly.”

Lafayette’s lifelong friend was visiting the States for the next couple of weeks, with her daughter, and Lafayette had agreed to allow them to stay with him. He didn’t want to force them to navigate the New York subway with all of their luggage on their first day, so his initial idea had been to rent a car. Eliza, however, was an angel that offered hers up. And thus, also offered herself up as a chauffeur, because Lafayette could not drive. Alex and Maria were there at Lafayette’s request, for moral support he had insisted.

“Oh! She is here, _Adrienne_ !” Lafayette started waving frantically toward the escalators and the other three searched the crowd until a petite woman with rich, umber skin emerged, grinning, and ran toward Lafayette. Maria and Eliza both _aww_ ’d and even Alex had to admit it was a wholesome scene, Adrienne throwing her arms around Lafayette’s neck and kissing his cheeks repeatedly. They spoke to each other in rapid French as a teenager, spitting image of Adrienne, strolled up next to them.

“Everyone! This is mon amour, my dearheart, my Adrienne.” He kissed her cheek and Adrienne grinned at everyone as Lafayette named each of them in turn. She pulled the girl in front of her, she seemed to be around Frances’ age. Her hair was short and curly, unlike the older woman whose braids were tied up in a bun.

“And this is the light of my life, my daughter, Anastasie.” Adrienne kissed the top of her daughter’s head and the girl gave a small wave.

Lafayette helped them collect their luggage before the six of them piled into Eliza’s car to head back toward Alex’s apartment.

* * *

“They’re nice.” Theo leaned back on Frances’ bed, taking in the room around her. Frances had drawings and paintings placed sporadically along her walls, among posters and pictures of her family. One wall was full of tickets, playbills, and along the top block letters had been placed to read ‘OH, THE PLACES YOU’LL GO…’. Theo grinned, that was adorable. “You three grew up together?”

Frances nodded, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Our parents are all really close friends.”

“That’s really cute.” Theo gestured to the paintings on the walls. “Did you make all of these?”

“Oh, yeah, most of ‘em.” Frances stood up, walking toward a crayon drawing of two turtles with a heart drawn between them. “My dad made some. Like this one, it was the first thing he drew for me, when I was little I thought the walls of our apartment were too empty and I made him draw things to cover them with me.”

Theo stood up as well, joining Frances to look at the turtle sketch. She looked around to find similar drawings and paintings of turtles across the wall. “You two really have a thing for turtles?”

“I guess so,” Frances laughed, just now noticing how many turtles were in her room. “Dad does, he likes to draw them. I guess it rubbed off.”

“That’s precious.”

Frances became suddenly and violently aware of how close Theo was standing, she could feel the fabric of Theo’s shirt brush her arm with each breath, each breath that she could feel hot on her shoulder. Frances took a breath, trying to calm down her erratically beating heart. _Don’t do this_ , she thought to herself. What was weird was that it didn’t feel like any kind of anxiety attack she had had before, her heart was pounding but her chest didn’t feel tight. She could still breath fine. But her heart was pounding and her face was burning, and Theo was _close_.

“What else do you like to draw?” Theo’s question pulled Frances’ attention away from her heart’s reaction to Theo being _so damn close_ and back to Theo herself. She shrugged, looking around at the drawings and then at the pictures of her family.

“I actually prefer photography; I don’t draw as much anymore.”

“Really?” Theo seemed genuinely interested and Frances’ heart skipped. _Shit, am I okay?_ “We should do a photoshoot sometime. I’ve been told I’m a fabulous model.” The wink Theo threw at her made Frances’ stomach flip. _Why are you like this?_

“That sounds great.” Frances smiled. She spotted her camera on her dresser, considering for half a second before she grabbed it and turned to Theo. “How about now?”

Theo laughed, then after realizing Frances was serious she nodded. Frances turned the camera on and aimed it at Theo, snapping a few pictures of her face, zooming out to take pictures of her upper body. Theo kept looking at the pictures on the wall, posing as she looked at them. Frances got a couple shots of her thoughtful look before Theo moved back to the bed.

Frances paused as Theo sat on the bed, but picked right back up taking pictures of the girl. Theo stretched herself out over the blankets, Frances’ heart started doing that skipping thing again. Frances focused on the view through her camera lens, focused on the pictures, focused on the art of it all. Theo was a great model, she was beautiful and photogenic. The light slid down the angles of her face perfectly, her full lips parted just so and her eyes were bright and held all of the right emotions.

Frances got on the bed, too. She moved to straddle Theo’s hips, asking her if it was okay and capturing the hint of a smile and nod in a picture before sitting across the girl’s hips and getting more shots.

“Fran—Ah, shit, sorry, I—” Alex opened the door and immediately shut it again after realizing Frances wasn’t alone. Frances flung herself off of Theo as the other girl sat up, holding her camera to her chest, and called out that he could come in. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.”

“We were just taking pictures,” she explained quickly. Alex noticed the camera, feeling less scarred.

“I didn’t know you had someone over.” Alex scratched the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t think you’d mind. This is my friend.”

“Theodosia,” Theo cut in. “Or Theo, for short.”

Alex wasn’t upset, honestly he was thrilled to hear the word ‘friend’ leave Frances mouth. The name sounded familiar, so Frances must have talked about her before he just couldn’t remember. He kicked himself, what kind of father forgets about his own daughter’s friends?

“Good to meet you, Theo.” Alex nodded from the doorway, then turned to Frances. “We have more guests, your Uncle Laf’s friend and her daughter are here visiting from Paris. They’re staying for dinner, as are Philip, Eliza, and Maria—Theo, you’re welcome to stay, too.”

“Thank you, Mr. Laurens.”

Alex’s stomach swooped at the mix-up and he smiled. “Call me Alex, dear.” He ducked back out of the room, leaving the two girls alone.

“Did we get any good pictures?” Theo didn’t seem phased by the interruption, scooting closer to Frances on the bed and gesturing to the camera. “Can we look?”

Frances pulled up the pictures, scrolling through them slowly and marking the ones that Theo especially liked. But that was a lot, nearly every picture she would put her hand on Frances’ arm and say “That’s so good!” or “That one, that’s a profile! That’s magnificent!”. They didn’t make it through all of the pictures before Alex’s voice carried down the hall that dinner was ready.

They headed out to the kitchen, where everyone was gathered to grab a plate of food. Alex stood next to the stove with Eliza, both of them making last minute touches to the food.

“Who is this?” Lafayette was next to them, smiling as he held a hand out to Theo.

“Theo, sir.” They shook.

“Please, do not call me ‘sir’. I’m Lafayette, Frances’ oncle.” Lafayette turned to the woman standing next to him, and another teenage girl. “And this is my best friend from Paris, Adrienne de Noailles, and her daughter, Anastasie Louise Pauline.”

“Or Ana, if you’re not as obsessed with obnoxiously long names as Laf.” Ana said. The other girl was pretty, like her mother. She had a full build, round hips, dark skin, and bright eyes. She was a miniaturized version of the woman Lafayette had introduced as his best friend.

“Great to meet you, Ana.” Theo stepped up and shook the girl’s hand, grinning. Frances felt something completely different in her stomach at that, no longer flipping and flopping at being so close to Theo.

They didn’t set at the dinner table, mostly because it was far too small. Instead, Alex brought out extra chairs and everyone gathered in living room. Eliza and Maria took the love seat, and Philip stuck himself between them, Lafayette, Adrienne, and Alex sat on the couch. The chairs were left open for John and Hercules once they got home half an hour later, which left Georges, Frances, Theo, and Ana sitting in the floor as they ate.

Frances ate slowly, mostly watching Theo and Ana talk. Theo kept asking questions about Frances, about Paris, about everything. She reached out to touch Ana’s arm, and Ana giggled and flipped her hair. Frances stabbed a potato a little too hard, nearly knocking her plate over. Neither of them noticed.

Georges did. “You’re jealous.” His voice was quiet, only loud enough for her to hear, and she wanted to stab him just like she’d stabbed the potato.

“I’m not.” She nearly hissed. Ana laughed too loudly at one of Theo’s jokes. “Do you know her?”

“Non, this is the first time I’ve met her.” Georges stole a piece of potato from Frances’ plate, his own empty. “I’ve only seen aunt Adri over Skype before, they’re virtually strangers to me.”

“But they’re going to be living with you, right?” Georges nodded. “I need you to learn what you can and tell me about her.”

“Like a recon mission?”

“Sure, if that’s what you have to call it.”

“I’m on it, Franny.” Georges swooped in as Theo stood up and moved over to Frances.

“My dad texted, I’ve gotta go home.” Frances stood and took her plate.

“I’ll walk you out, let me just put these away.” Frances dumped the plates in the kitchen and walked Theo out to the hallway. “I’m… I’m never sure if ‘I’ll walk you out’ means just to the hallway or down to the street…”

“The hallways good.” Theo laughed. “I’m pretty sure I can find my way to the street.” Frances laughed too, but it was forced.

“Thanks for coming over.”

“Of course, it was fun.” She sounded genuine. “Your family, they’re great… and Ana’s cute. Do you know how long she’s in town?”

Frances swallowed thickly, that not so great feeling back in her stomach. “I’m not sure, I… I guess I can find out for you.”

“It’s okay, I can ask her.” Theo wiggled her phone, that grin back on her face. Frances suddenly hated that grin. “Well, I’ve gotta go. We should hang out again.”

“Yeah.”

Frances watched her go down the stairs. Waited until she was probably out of earshot and let out a loud groan.

“Everything okay?”

She jumped, hadn’t even realized John had opened the door behind her. He looked concerned, so she nodded.

“Fine.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.” John lifted a brow. “But I’ll let it slide for now. Theo left?” She nodded. “She’s missing out, Herc brought ice cream, come get some.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments & Kudos are my life force and I love hearing what you all think so far! 
> 
> Also come talk to me on Tumblr: @hypeulesnochilligan


	4. all she wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All she wanted was a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello! Welcome back to Between Hurting & Healing, I present to you, chapter 4.

Theo and Frances continued to hang out.

Theo would come over more often. Sometimes they would stay in and play games. Theo was a boss at Uno, and Frances kicked ass at Monopoly the one time that Theo agreed to play it with her.

A lot of times they would listen to music, Theo showing Frances all of her favorite songs and her favorite bands and Frances soaking it all in. Theo had a good taste in music, Frances enjoyed almost everything that the girl showed her. For the most part it was upbeat, thrumming tempos that pulsed through the headphones and into her body. Some of them were sad, some of them reminded her of her mother and Theo said she felt the same way.

They also continued taking pictures, going out around the city to get good shots. Theo would dress up sometimes, either in her own fancy dresses or by borrowing some of Frances’ clothes.

“My closet looks like a pastel garden and yours looks like a middle school boy in his grunge phase,” Theo noted one day with a laugh. She took out a pair of tight black jeans, ripped around the knees and thighs, as an example.

“Maybe I’m just a middle school boy in my grunge phase.” Frances’ shoulders bounced with a little shrug and she glanced down at her current outfit. Black pants, an AC/DC shirt she had stolen from either John or Alex, a jean jacket, and Docs. Maybe Theo had a point.

“It’s a good thing you can pull it off.” Theo said, tossing a wink over her shoulder. Frances didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling that left in her gut, that weird twist and the heat that flooded her face, because Theo quickly followed up. “Otherwise, I’d have to make fun of you constantly.”

“Why are you going through my closet then?” Frances stood up from the bed and walked up behind the Theo, who was holding up two different plaid shirts, tilting her head as she considered each.

“I may not be able to pull off this punk rock grunge thing you’ve got going, but,” Theo finally settled on the red, grey, and black plaid, holding it up to herself, “I think I could pull something fresh and new out of this. Do you care?”

“Nah, go ahead.” Frances nearly regretted her words when Theo pulled her shirt off, leaving her standing in front of Frances in just a lacy navy bra. Frances’ ears were burning and she looked away as quickly as possible. Theo pulled the shirt on, buttoning it and moving to look at herself in Frances’ full length mirror.

“What do you think?” Theo turned this way and that, trying to see herself from every angle. She looked to Frances, who finally turned her eyes back to Theo. She felt another strange little thrill at seeing Theo in her shirt. Like they were really friends, this was something friends did. They hang out and borrow each other’s clothes, at least according to the movies which was the only  thing Frances had to go off of. 

Frances had never had real friends. She had acquaintances through school, people she would talk to in class or in the halls, but never anyone to come over and play games or listen to music or borrow her clothes. The majority of the kids liked to tease her, for her hair or freckles or body or parents. She felt like an easy target, because her parents were Out out. A lot of people knew John, he was an ER doctor, and Alex tried to be as active as possible within the PTA. At least, until a group of moms got ‘uncomfortable’ and instead of causing a stink over it Alex just dropped out. 

So, Frances never had friends. But she had seen movies, TV shows. She had seen what friendships were supposed to look like. And she finally had one. 

“You look great.” Frances smiled. She grabbed her camera and they went out, taking pictures along the Hudson River, throughout the city, along the Pier. And they were gorgeous, and each time Theo used one as a profile picture or posted one on Instagram Frances felt a sense of pride.

She finally had one, a real friend. 

Theo had also been spending a lot of time with Ana. Frances’ friend had a friend.

Frances hadn’t realized how much of a friend until a day when she went over to Theo’s. Her father was at work so she let herself in through the unlocked door. She had told Theo she’d come over whenever she finished her chores at home, leaving as soon as she sat the last dish in the drying rack and promising Alex she’d put them away when she got home.

What Theo hadn’t mentioned was that Ana had come over as well.

Another thing Theo hadn’t mentioned, was that she and Ana were getting close.  _ Very _ close. Frances found them almost as close as two people could be. Really, how much closer could you get than Theo’s tongue down Ana’s throat and Ana’s legs wrapped around Theo’s waist.

Frances didn’t even know she had made a sound until Theo broke their kiss and looked up at her, shock and embarrassment written across her face.

“Frances—”

Frances didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. She ran out of the apartment, and continued running. Running past her own home, past her school, past the park she used to go to as a kid. She kept running until her legs burned, her body moving as fast as her racing mind. The image of Theo and Ana was burned into her eyes; she couldn’t see anything but Theo’s mouth on Ana’s.

She finally stopped running when she ran out of land to run across. She came to the edge of the island, staring at the Hudson River until her eyes blurred with tears that she couldn’t understand.

She was embarrassed, obviously. Had she known Ana was going to be there, or that Theo and Ana were a  _ thing _ , she wouldn’t have even bothered going over.

And she was angry at Theo for not telling her she had company, or that she was going to busy herself by making out with someone. Even just a ‘hey, wouldja mind knocking’ would’ve been great. It would have saved them all a load of embarrassment. She was also angry at Theo for just not telling her about Ana. Frances thought she and Theo were close, that they were becoming friends, but Theo didn’t even tell her that she was seeing someone.

She didn’t even know Theo liked  _ girls _ , let alone Ana. She felt lied to, and she felt lost. She thought they were such great friends, but she really didn’t know anything about the other girl.

It was bad enough before  _ this _ . Frances vaguely knew that Theo and Ana had hit it off after that family dinner, when she had first arrived.

She tried not to let more jealousy eat away at her, but sometimes she would catch a glimpse of Theo’s phone and see them texting. She was afraid that Ana would be the better friend, that Theo would drop her—and now Ana was  _ more  _ than a friend. Now it was guaranteed that Theo would spend more time with Ana, and Frances would be left on the sidelines, and all the photos and games and music and clothes-sharing would come to a halt.

Their friendship would come to a halt. 

And that’s why Frances was jealous, that’s why she was crying, that’s why she was so upset over this.

Alex was the only one home when Frances finally returned. He was in the kitchen, chopping peppers in preparation for dinner. Frances dropped her things by the door and attempted to go past him to her room.

“Theo came by.”

Frances paused. “That’s nice.”

“She said she was worried, that you seemed upset when you left her house.”

Frances rolled her eyes. “Of course she did.”

“Were you upset when you left?” Alex turned to look at Frances, who only shrugged and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Fran, come talk to me.” 

Frances sighed and pulled herself onto the counter next to where he was working. She grabbed a piece of green pepper and chewed on it before she actually started talking.

“She was making out with Ana, so I left.”

“Adrienne mentioned they were getting close.” Alex pushed the peppers aside and started dicing tomato. “Did that upset you?”

“Yeah.” Alex glanced up at her. “I mean, I thought we were going to hang out and then… well, we obviously weren’t. I just felt dumb.” Alex had stopped dicing tomatoes, still watching his daughter. Frances shifted under his gaze, “What?”

Alex shook his head, returned to cooking. “Nothing. So, you walked in on them and then ran off?”

“I guess.”

“Are you going to call her?”

“Doubt she’ll want me to.” Frances snatched a piece of tomato and popped it into her mouth, turning her gaze to the ground.

“I don’t think that’s true.” Alex sat the knife down. “She came all the way here just to see you because she was afraid you were upset.”

“She’s probably busy with Ana.”

“So, you’re just going to throw away that friendship because she’s spending time with someone else?” Alex watched Frances’ shoulders bounce with that typical shrug. “Are you sure you’re not upset about something else?”

“I told you why I was upset, I thought she wanted to hang out and she didn’t. I thought we were friends—”

“Why does this mean you aren’t friends?”

“She didn’t even tell me she liked girls, Papa.” Frances continued to stare at the tiled kitchen floor. “If she lies to me and chooses Ana over me, how are we friends?”

“I’m sure she didn’t choose Ana over you,” Alex said. “In fact, I know she didn’t, because she came here. And she was very concerned.” He grabbed Frances’ chin with two fingers, gently lifting her head up so she had to look at him. “Coming out to someone is hard, Fran, especially at your age. Don’t get mad at her for not telling you.”

“I can’t help how I feel.” Frances jerked her chin away, frowning.

“You can choose not to be mad at her over that, Frances.”

“But she knows about you and Dad!” Frances jumped down from the counter. “Why would she still lie to me about it?”

“Frances,” Alex put a hand on her shoulder. “You need to stop and think about things from her perspective. You’re a smart girl, I know you can understand why she didn’t say anything.”

“I don’t want to think about things from her perspective.”

“Fran.”

“Don’t ‘Fran’ me.”

“Frances Laurens.” Alex’s voice was loud and firm this time and Frances knew she crossed a line. She felt bad for snapping at him like that, but she stood her ground. She was upset, she had a right to be upset because she was losing her only friend. But now Alex was upset, when she looked at him she could tell he was at a loss with her attitude. He finally shook his head. “Just go to your room, Frances.”

So she did. She laid down on her bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling from when she was twelve or thirteen. She remembered picking them out with John, when she was deep in her astronomy phase.

“You gotta make ‘em into the right shapes.” John had just been placing them around randomly and Frances had stopped him, tugging on the leg of his jeans with frustration. “You gotta make ‘em constellations. The Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and Ryan’s Belt.”

“Who’s Ryan?” John had asked, looking down at her, eyes twinkling with amusement. She shoved at his thigh.

“You know what I mean!”

So the stars were up there, shaped into the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, and Orion’s Belt.

Theo had commented on them one of the first few times she had come over. She had been lying on Frances’ bed while Frances sat in the middle of the floor folding her laundry. After making a comment on the domesticity, Theo looked up at the fake stars.

“And you have an alarmingly accurate looking night sky on your ceiling? Who are you, Frances?”

“Just a girl who loves her stars. Or, loved. We did that when I was in middle school.”

“Do they still glow?”

“Not as brightly as they used to, but a little, yeah.” Theo sat up, stretching until she could reach the light switch and shut off the light. With the blinds pulled shut on the windows, thick darkness fell over the room and Frances glared toward the bed, unable to see Theo until her eyes adjusted.

“What are you doing?” She heard Theo’s hand smack against the blanket twice.

“Come look at the stars with me, dumbass.”

“That’s not exactly a persuasive argument.”

Theo sighed and Frances got to her feet, settling onto the comforter next to her and looking up at the constellations across her ceiling.

“Do you still know all of them?” Theo didn’t look at Frances, but she did scoot closer to her.

“Of course I do.”

“Teach me.”

“Okay. I assume you can guess the big and little dippers?” Theo nudged her with her elbow. “Okay, okay, see that one?” Frances pointed and Theo followed her finger, nodding. “Andromeda. And those three stars? Orion’s belt.”

“Where’s Orion?”

“We ran out of stars, you can kind of tell the vague outline of him.” She traced it with her pointer finger, and Theo tried to follow.

“Maybe you should show me with real stars sometime.” Theo suggested. They looked at each other, Frances was glad for the darkness mostly concealing the surprise on her face as she searched for an answer.

“It’d be kind of hard in the city. All the lights.”

Theo nodded. “You’ve got a point. We’ll just have to get out of the city sometime, maybe we can go camping upstate.”

“Maybe.” Frances laughed, and Theo did, too.

That was another moment that made Frances feel warm and light, like she was filling up with the sun despite laying in a dark room. Theo made her feel that way, Theo was the first person to make her feel that way. The kids at school, on the rare occasions that they actually tried to befriend her, none of them ever made her feel light and happy. None of them ever made her feel like she was wanted.

But now that could be totally gone, all because of a girl.

Frances rolled onto her side and punched the bed, letting out an angry cry into her pillow.

All she wanted was a friend. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback so far! Please keep it coming, let me know what you like, dislike, what you think? 
> 
> Feel free to come talk to me on Tumblr, send me prompts or questions about this 'verse, anything! @ hypeulesnochilligan.tumblr.com


	5. apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frances apologizes, to almost everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just taught me how much I don't remember from domestic life, and I *wrote* it. Also, re-reading domestic life made me miss little Frances - but teenage Frances is a trip, too. 
> 
> Thank y'all so much for returning for another chapter, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Special thanks again to Indi for reading this over for me!
> 
> (See Endnotes for info on how you may get a chance at me writing a fic for you!)

“We’ve got a fucking teenager, John.” Alex ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what the fuck to do now.”

“What we’ve been doing.”

“She snapped at me, she’s never snapped at me like that. Not even when she was a pre-teen, not even when she should have been at her worst. What is going on with her?”

“She’s sixteen, Al, breathe.” John put his hand on Alex’s shoulder, rubbed his back, tried to get him to calm down. He had never seen Alex get this worked up over their daughter before, apart from when she was sick.

“I just… something’s going on with her and I don’t know what to do.” Alex sat down on the edge of their bed. “I feel so useless.”

“I’ll go talk to her.” John kissed Alex’s cheek. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t get yourself worked up.”

* * *

_  
Theo: r u ok??????_

_Theo: im sorry if i upset u_

_Theo: frances im really worried_

_Theo: and im really sorry_

_Theo: please talk to me????_

Frances stared at her phone, at Theo’s texts. She still felt angry. But maybe she should hear Theo out. She hit ‘call’, held the phone to her ear. 

“Frances?”

“Hey.”

She could hear Theo let out a relieved sigh on the other end. “Hey… I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t know Ana was going to come over. She said her mom and Lafayette went out, she didn’t want to stay with George so—”

“ _Georges_.”

“Huh?”

“His name, it’s Georges. It’s French.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Georges.”

“It’s okay.” Frances felt better just hearing Theo’s voice. She couldn’t really be mad at her, she really liked her. Even over the phone she made Frances feel light, airy, like she had this bubble in her stomach that wouldn’t come out and she couldn’t help but smile. “It’s all okay, sorry I ran and… ignored you.”

“It’s fine. I get it, it… I’m a little embarrassed, honestly, I…” Theo cut off, and they sat in silence for a long minute.

“So, are you two a thing now?” Frances finally asked. Theo laughed, just the breath of a chuckle.

“I don’t know… Maybe?” Frances flipped onto her stomach, which was now turning heavily, that light feeling gone. “She’s cute, right?”

“I didn’t even know you liked girls.”

She could hear Theo’s breathing, so she knew the call wasn’t dropped, but she didn’t get an answer for a long time.

“I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t have judged you or anything. I mean… my dads, and Georges… I wouldn’t have cared.”

“Georges is…?” Theo trailed off, Frances imagined she was doing that thing where she rubbed the back of her neck and made that face. Her brow crinkled, mouth slanted and probably biting her lip. “Anyway, I… I don’t know, I was just a little afraid to say anything. It didn’t really… seem important enough to bring up.”

“Well, it came up.”

“Yeah.” Theo sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. But… you can tell me stuff, okay? I mean, you can trust me.”

“Yeah, okay.” A pause. “I do trust you, Fran.”

“I’m glad.” Frances grinned, rolling onto her back and feeling her heart beat hard in her chest. “Well, tell me about her. What’s she like… is she a good kisser?”

“Oh my god, Frances,” Theo started going on about Ana. About their kiss, about Ana as a person. And Frances listened, because it didn’t seem like Ana was going to put an end to that. So she listened, like a good friend, and ignored the heaviness that replaced the light feeling in her heart.

A few hours later, after Frances had hung up and gotten ready for bed, there was a gentle knock at her door. John opened the door after getting Frances’ okay and leaned against the frame, watching her for a minute.

“Are you just here to stare at me?” Frances asked, sitting on the edge of her bed and brushing her hair out.

“Al told me what happened between the two of you earlier.” John stepped into the room, taking a seat across from her. Frances stopped, dropped her arms with a frown.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be telling your Papa that, not me.” John reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You can tell me what it was about.”

“I’m sure he told you.” Frances muttered.

“He did, but I want to hear it from you.”

Frances sighed. “I went over to Theo’s, she was with Ana, I left. I thought she was going to choose Ana over me, but we’ve already talked about it and everything’s fine.”

“Everything’s fine?”

“Yes, Dad, everything’s fine. I just…” Frances fell back into her pillows with a groan. “I just got worried. I really like Theo, but people never really want to be my friend. I thought it was going to be the same with her.”

“You have tons of friends.” John said. He was trying, but Frances gave him a look. An ‘are you kidding me?’ look. “At school?”

“The only friends I have are Georges and Philip and that’s because you forced us to all be friends.”

“We didn’t force you—”

“Dad, we didn’t have the choice. It’s pure luck that we actually all like each other.”

“Well, you have Theo. Maybe you should try hanging out with Ana, too. She’ll be around for a bit longer, and having pen pals are always fun.”

Frances made a face. “I’m… not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Just… she and Theo are, like, a thing now? That’s why not?”

John, confused as ever, furrowed his brow. “Why does that mean you shouldn’t be friends?”

“Because it’d be… weird, Dad, I don’t know. I just don’t think I want to. One friend at a time, you know?”

John gave her a quizzical look, studying her until Frances reached out and pushed at his shoulder.

“Stop staring, Dad, it’s weird.”

John laughed at that. “Can’t I look at my beautiful baby girl?”

“Ugh, don’t be gross.” John leaned in and started kissing her cheek, fingers poking at her sides and making the girl laugh and try to squirm away. “ _Dad_! Stop it, this is w-hehe-eird.” Frances fell onto the bed laughing as John continued to tickle her. He finally relented, standing up and letting her go after she started beating against his chest, her laughter still filling the room and her punches weak.

“You’re the worst,” Frances said, wiping a hand under her eyes to get rid of the laughter-tears that had fallen.

“I know, I’m a horrible, horrible father, aren’t I?” John leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, Fran. Your papa will be in to say goodnight in a bit, you should really apologize.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” Frances reached out and hugged John around the neck, pulling back and kissing his cheek. “’Night, Dad.”

Alex did come in a few minutes later, knocking gently on the open door.

“You can come in, Papa.” Frances sat up as he walked in. “I’m sorry for being snippy earlier.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart.”

“I was just… really upset.”

“I understand.” Alex sat on the edge of Frances’ bed, putting an arm around her. “It’s not an excuse to be rude or snap at people, but I understand. You’ve got your dad’s temper.”

Frances scoffed and Alex laughed. “Oh, you do, don’t scoff.” He leaned in and kissed her temple. “You’re lucky that your dad taught me how to love someone with that temper.”

“Are you saying you almost didn’t love me?” Frances gaped, brows shooting up into her hairline. Alex shook his head.

“No, I’m saying I almost didn’t love your dad—you were too damn cute as a kid to not love from the very beginning.” Alex grinned as he thought back to Frances’ childhood, when he had first met her at that frozen yogurt shop. “You know, you used to make the absolute worst frozen yogurt cups and make me eat every single bite?”

“You think all frozen yogurt is gross, except pistachio, because you and dad are disgusting.” Frances leaned her head on his shoulder. “We haven’t gotten froyo in a long time, we should go back sometime.”

“That froyo shop is where we first met, you know.” Alex kissed the top of her head. “You remember?”

“Absolutely barely, Papa, that was _eleven_ years ago.”

Alex clutched at his heart, wincing, and Frances leaned back and laughed at the exaggerated gesture. “There was no need to remind me how old I’ve gotten. Or how old _you’ve_ gotten. You used to be this cute little girl, and now you’re a teenager.”

Frances wrapped her arms around Alex’s middle, hugging him and laying her head on his chest. “I’m a cute teenager though, right?” Alex chuckled, kissing her head again.

“Absolutely. When you’re not exercising your father’s temper.”

“Hey!”

“I love you both anyway, but that temper ain’t cute on anyone.”

“I’m telling Dad.” Frances sat back up, yawning, which made Alex yawn. “You seem tired, Old Man, you should go to bed.”

“Hey, you started it.” Alex yawned again, shaking his head. “But it is getting late. _You_ should go to bed. And maybe I’ll talk to your dad about getting some frozen yogurt tomorrow, alright?”

Frances hugged him again and kissed his cheek, just as she’d done with John, before burrowing down into her blankets.

“That sounds great. Thank you, Papa.”

“Goodnight, Franny.”

Alex got up, turning off her light as went to the door.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments & Kudos are amazing and let me know what I'm doing Right or Wrong so I can keep making this better for y'all! 
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr @lafbaeyette
> 
> (for the record, I'm doing a fic giveaway for my followers - if you follow me, then you can reblog [ this post ](http://lafbaeyette.tumblr.com/post/161252142319/pips-follower-fic-prize-thing) to enter! I'm picking winners on June 2nd!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father's Day & Georges recon mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've officially written an outline for this thing and we're looking at around 13 chapters. Things only continue to get fun from here. 
> 
> Special thanks to Krys (AKA, paperthinrevolutionary) for reading over this for me. <3

“Happy Father’s Day!” Theo rushed down the stairs, still in her pajamas. She had heard coffee mugs clinking, which indicated that her father had a late start to his morning because he was still around. How lucky, that meant she could actually see him before he left for work.

She turned into the kitchen and found the man, fully dressed, pouring coffee into one of his tumblers. “Morning, Theodosia.”

“Morning, Dad.” She gave him her biggest smile, followed by her tightest hug around his waist. He chuckled and ran a hand over her still tangled hair.

“What are you doing up so early? You’re usually still in bed, even when I leave later.”

“It’s Father’s Day.” Theo said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but Aaron had to check the calendar on the wall to make sure. “I wanted to see you before you left.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ve got to get running, though, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Wait, but I have a present for you!” Theo darted out of the room, rustling through one of the table drawers in the living room. She had made sure to store it somewhere safe, but easy to find, knowing her father would be rushing out that morning. “Just a minute! I can find it!”

“Theodosia, can it wait until tonight?” Aaron asked, checking his watch, impatient. He hated being late, and he was already behind schedule. Theo gave up looking, knowing that meant he was going to leave whether she found it or not.

“Yeah, I guess it can.” She made her way back into the kitchen for a second hug, but by the time she got there the door was shutting behind Aaron. Theo frowned. “So can the hug, Dad, it’s fine.” She pulled herself back up the stairs to her room, collapsing into bed and returning to sleep.

* * *

Jealousy was beginning to be a common theme in Frances’ life, and she wasn’t pleased with it. First, it was over Theo and Ana, who were still hitting it off pretty well and still making Frances a little jealous. She didn’t really believe she was going to lose Theo anymore, that wasn’t it, but something about their relationship still rubbed her the wrong way. She would feel a wave of something course through her every time Ana would lean in and kiss Theo’s cheek, or every time Theo would grab Ana’s hand.

Frances chose to ignore it.

It became easier to ignore when a more relevant and easy to understand jealousy hit her.

“Happy Father’s Day!” Philip ran into Alex’s arms, hugging him around the neck, a giant card in his grimy little hand. Frances tried not to openly glare at the boy, instead forcing a smile onto her face as she greeted Eliza and Maria.

“Sorry to stop by unannounced,” Eliza said. Frances couldn’t help but think,  _ you should be _ . Thankfully, John spoke up before her thoughts could leave her mouth.

“Don’t worry, we love having you all over.” He kissed Eliza’s cheek, then Maria’s, and ushered them into the living room. It still smelled like bacon from the breakfast Frances had made, a replica of the one she had made them for Mother’s Day. 

Mother’s Day, which should have been Philip’s holiday—if she didn’t have a mother to celebrate on that day, why did he get two moms  _ and  _ a father to celebrate on Father’s Day?

Alex was kneeling next to Philip now, reading the card the boy had made for him and hugging him again. Frances failed to hide her scowl.

“We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?” Maria asked, noting the look on the girl’s face. John shook his head.

“We were just finishing a delicious breakfast, courtesy of Franny.” He kissed the top of her head.

Sometimes she hated that Philip knew who his father was. Sure, on some level she believed that was only fair, and it was great that he got to know Alex, but Alex was  _ her  _ Papa and she didn’t like sharing him. Not on Father’s Day at least, it was all she got.

“Well, we were wondering,” Eliza drew out her words, a smile growing across her face, and Frances’ scowl turned into a frown. She didn’t like where this was going already. “If you all don’t already have plans, maybe you could join us for some Father’s Day festivities.”

“That sounds like fun.” Alex grinned, and Philip was positively beaming.

“It was my idea!”

“Of course it was,” Frances muttered, knowing she deserved it when John flicked her shoulder. She looked up at him and he gave her a pointed look.

“Philip thought we could catch a movie and get some lunch, all together.” Maria explained.

“We’d love that,” Alex said immediately, not even bothering to check if maybe Frances  _ had  _ planned something. Which she had, it wasn’t anything as good as a movie and lunch, so that was just going to have to sit on the back burner now that they were committed to all of Philip’s desires.

They went to see some kids’ movie, which Alex seemed to enjoy even more than Philip. Frances sat on the aisle, next to John, who was next to Alex, then Philip, Maria, and Eliza. The group took up half a row in the center of the theatre, two buckets of popcorn and a box of cookie dough bites passed between them.

Frances wanted to leave. She sank further into her chair, denying the popcorn or drink that John had offered her. She just wanted to  _ leave _ .

Of course, once they did leave, it was followed by gathering into a circular booth at a nearby sandwich place.

Frances hated sandwiches. At least she did today.

“What would you like, Franny?” Eliza asked her. She was being sweet and caring in a way that only Eliza could, and Frances almost felt bad for the way she snapped “Nothing” in reply. Eliza frowned, and Frances could tell just from the way Eliza kept watching her that the woman was still  _ caring _ , when Frances was trying so hard to be pissed at her, Maria, and Philip for interrupting her Father’s Day.

John gave her a look as well, a less caring and more punishing one. Frances didn’t get away with snapping at family. He ordered on her behalf before nudging her shoulder, motioning for her to get out of the booth. She was on the end, so she slid out easily, John following behind her and excusing them both from the table before dragging her toward the back of the restaurant.

“Frances Eleanor, what has gotten into you?” John demanded. Frankly, he was tired from overtime at the hospital and now dealing with Frances’ sudden attitude change over the past couple of weeks. “You’ve never snapped at anyone, let alone Eliza. You were perfectly fine this morning, what’s going on?”

Frances refused to look up at him, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall. She knew what she felt was selfish, but it didn’t change the feeling clawing through her chest. That she couldn’t fully have Theo, she had to share her with Ana, and now she couldn’t even have her Papa on Father’s Day.

“Fran, talk to me.” John sounded desperate. Frances frowned harder, but finally spoke.

“It’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair, sweetheart?”

“That we’re here. That we had to go out with them on Father’s Day, when I wanted to do something else with you guys. You’re  _ my  _ dads.”

John’s tough fatherly demeanor faded into something more understanding. He put a hand on Frances’ shoulder, apologetic. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t realize you had plans. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Frances shrugged. “Figured it wouldn’t matter… Philip wanted to celebrate with his dad… it’s just not fair. He gets two moms  _ and  _ a dad, that’s, like, three parents. Since Alex is his dad, it’s like I only get one.”

“Hey,” John cupped her chin, making her look up at him. “Alexander is as much your dad as I am. Maybe he’s Philip’s father biologically, but he’s helped me raise you nearly from the beginning. Think of it from the other side, Fran—Alex helped raise you, you see him every day and get all of the kisses goodnight. Philip gets to see him maybe once every couple of weeks. I know you’re bummed about sharing Father’s Day, but it’s the only day you have to share him. He may be Philip’s father, but he’s your daddy.”

Frances narrowed her eyes at her dad. She had been enthralled and even won over by the speech, until the last line. “Did you just try to quote  _ Guardians _ ?” John gave a half-hearted shrug and Frances started laughing, which was much more welcome than her earlier grumpy mood. “You’re such a nerd, Dad.”

“Yeah, your Papa tells me that all the time.” He kissed her forehead. “Now, are you ready to go back to the table and act like the respectful young lady we know you are?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” John ruffled her hair, getting his hand smacked away as she tried to fix the curls again. “Hey! I didn’t deserve that!”

* * *

Georges was on a reconnaissance mission. He had promised to find out whatever he could about Ana while she was living there. She and Adrienne shared the spare room, and she often kept herself holed up in there with a book—when she wasn’t out with Theo. On this particular evening, Georges found that she was once again holed up in her room, this time with her mother. Their door was cracked open just enough that he could hear them loud and clear.

Adrienne’s voice was low, soothing, and Ana’s was a bit tenser as they spoke in quiet, rapid French.

“ _ Maman, I really like it here. Can’t we stay a little longer? _ ”

“ _ I wanted you to see what America was like, Ana, not live here. New York is lovely, but don’t you miss Paris? _ ”

“ _ Not exactly. _ ”

Their voices dropped even lower, Georges had to scoot closer to the crack in the door, being very careful not to touch the wood or make a sound.

“ _ Well,  _ I _ miss Paris _ .”

“ _ Then… then maybe I can stay with Lafayette? I really like it here. _ ”

“ _ You like it here, or you like the people here? _ ” Adrienne sounded suspicious of her daughter’s intentions.

“ _ I like it here. America. It is beautiful, and so new, and yes, the people are a plus _ .” He could imagine Ana’s cheeks getting warmer and pinker as she spoke, her voice faltering a bit on ‘the people’. He knew which ‘people’ she was talking about, and so did Adrienne.

“ _ You cannot make a drastic decision such as moving to America based off of one person, Anastasie. Trust me _ .” The ‘trust me’ sounded like she was speaking from experience. Georges certainly trusted her.

“ _ Maman, please. Just a little longer? _ ”

Adrienne sighed. “ _ There are certainly some things you get from him. Gilbert, too, fell in love with this country. Okay, I will think about it. _ ” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think with Comments and Kudos! 
> 
> Or come yell at me on Tumblr or Twitter: @lafbaeyette


	7. not like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frances slid into the booth of the familiar frozen yogurt shop. The air conditioning was blasting, fighting against the humidity of the summer that swept through the small shop with every chime of the bell above the door. Her thighs stuck to the seat, her lips were cold and numb from the strawberry-chocolate froyo mixture, and Alex’s laugh rumbled from his chest from something she had said moments ago.
> 
> It was the perfect day.

Frances slid into the booth of the familiar frozen yogurt shop. The air conditioning was blasting, fighting against the humidity of the summer that swept through the small shop with every chime of the bell above the door. Her thighs stuck to the seat, her lips were cold and numb from the strawberry-chocolate froyo mixture, and Alex’s laugh rumbled from his chest from something she had said moments ago. 

It was the perfect day. 

Alex had woken her up that morning with a promise of a treat after she finished her chores, which inspired her to actually finish them in a timely manner. After she took a shower, threw on a tank top and shorts, and pulled her curls back into a sloppy bun that matched her Papa’s, they were out. The sun was cruel, burning her bare shoulders, making the freckles across her skin that much more prominent. Alex complained under his breath, but thankfully the walk to the froyo shop wasn’t that long. It was last froyo place in their neighborhood, potentially one of the last in Manhattan, not that they ever looked for another one. This one was perfect. 

It wasn’t a big name like Pinkberry, just a little shop called  _ Chillz _ . With a Z. When Frances was younger, she thought that was the coolest thing. Now,  _ Chillz _ was a family tradition. Which is why Frances was mildly suspicious when they walked through the door, into the welcoming cool air and familiar smell of yogurt, toppings, and the sanitizer they used to wipe down the countertops. The walls were covered in posters with phrases such as ‘Keep Calm & Eat Froyo’ and ‘Life is short, eat dessert first’, along with artistic photos of frozen yogurt. One wall in the back was actually a chalkboard, and it was covered in drawings, signatures, quotes, and names of people who have visited. Near the top left corner is a small, green cartoon turtle. John drew that years ago and it never got erased, Frances grinned every time she spotted it. 

“Why are we here?” Frances mixed the frozen yogurt in her cup, watching the gummy bears she had topped it with disappear into the pink and brown mixture. 

“It’s a hot one today, figured we deserved something nice to cool off with.” Alex took another bite of his pistachio yogurt, which Frances still thought was the most disgusting flavor in the world. 

“Can we take some to Dad at the hospital?” 

“Sure, sweetie.” 

Frances narrowed her eyes. “No arguments that it’s going to melt? Or that it’s too far of a walk? Papa, what’s going on?” 

Alex was quick to cut the crap, leveling with Frances. “Your dad told me about how you felt on Father’s Day, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt if we spent more time together.” 

“We literally live together,” Frances muttered, leaning back, her legs squeaking against the plastic seat as she slid down into it. “I was just having a bad day or something.” 

“It’s okay if you felt a little jealous, Fran.” Alex leaned forward. “But just because we spent some time with Philip, Eliza, and Maria doesn’t mean I love you any less. You’re still my daughter, whether we share blood or not.” 

“I know.” Frances sighed. “It’s just…” 

“What’s up?” 

Frances shrugged her shoulders, staring into her yogurt as she continued to spin her spoon through it. 

“Come on, honey.” 

“It just doesn’t really feel fair sometimes.” Frances whispered. “It’s stupid.” 

“Your feelings aren’t stupid, Fran.” 

“I just feel really alone sometimes.” She frowned, scooting further down in her seat. Her legs had gotten so long that her knees nearly bumped into Alex’s beneath the table. “Dad’s always working, and you’re always writing - when Philip and Georges are over, they’re closer to each other than they are to me. Even Theo’s found someone that she likes better than me.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true -” Alex was cut off by the jingle of the bell over the door, Frances’ eyes immediately following the sound and her heart dropping in her chest. 

“Speak of the devil…” 

Theo, in a short, frilly sundress, walked into the shop hand-in-hand with Ana. Frances fell even further in her seat, knees bumping Alex’s under the table as he turned to see the scene for himself. The two girls didn’t seem to notice them as they passed, going toward the frozen yogurt machines, giggling to each other. 

“So, she has a girlfriend.” Alex nudged Frances with his knee. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t still her best friend, Fran. You two are close, I’ve seen you together.” 

Frances grumbled something and shoved a spoonful of froyo into her mouth, eyes downcast. 

Alex frowned. “Are you sure this is just… friend-related jealousy?” 

Frances furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?” 

“I just mean,” Alex paused, trying to find the right way to word this. “Are you… sure that you’re just upset… over not spending time with her, and not over… not…  _ being  _ with her?” 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“I’m just saying, if you… liked Theo in a, in a different way - that’s okay. We’re, obviously, okay with it--”

“Oh my god, Papa!” Frances nearly screeched, sitting up in her seat and drawing attention to them. Alex glanced over her shoulder, noticing Theo noticing them, but before he could return the girl’s wave, Frances’ next words stopped him short. “No, it’s not like - I’m not like you.” 

Alex froze, eyes returning to the girl in front of him. Her words cut through him like a knife, venom dripped from ‘not like you’, and she didn’t realize what it had sounded like until it was too late. 

“I-I mean -” She swallowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like -” 

Alex raised a hand to stop her, shook his head. “I’ll go get a cup for your Dad while you finish up.” 

“Papa -” 

“It’s okay, Frances.” 

“No, it’s -” 

Alex got up before she could continue and she let out a frustrated sigh, angry with herself for what she had said. Mostly for  _ how  _ she had said it. 

* * *

Ana’s hand brushed against Theo’s for what felt like the hundredth time, but the girl just couldn’t be convinced to lock eyes let alone hold hands, not after the scene in the frozen yogurt shop. Theo had recalled Frances mentioning the place to her, and figured it was the perfect spot to spend some time with her loveliest new acquaintance - what she hadn’t accounted for was the chance that Frances would also be there.

She heard a familiar voice shouting out, her head snapping up to find the back of Frances’ curly head, sitting across from Alexander. Theo made eye contact with the man, smiling and waving, but his eyes snapped back to his daughter a moment later and Theo’s attention was drawn back to Ana. Ana’s fingers were wrapped around Theo’s wrist in a vice grip. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“What is  _ she _ doing here?” Ana whispered, words sharp enough they could’ve cut into Theo’s skin. 

“I don’t know - getting froyo with her dad?” Theo managed to twist her hand out of Ana’s hold. “Why?” 

“Did you know she was going to be here?” 

“Of course not, we don’t track each other’s every move.” Theo’s looked back over at the table, where Frances was now standing to follow her papa out of the store. “There, she’s gone now. What’s with you?” 

Ana rolled her eyes. Theo frowned and returned to filling her cup up with strawberry yogurt. 

“Are you really that thick?” Ana finally asked. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Mon amour, she  _ likes  _ you.” 

Theo looked back at her, lifted a brow and pursed her lips, confused. Ana resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, placing her cup down and crossing her arms. “Frances has a crush on you. I have seen the way she looks at you, especially when we are together. She is jealous.” 

“She’s straight.” 

“So was I.” Ana shrugged. “Or so I thought, then I met you.” 

“I’m the first girl you’ve dated?” 

“You’re the first girl I’ve done anything with.” Ana gave her a soft smile, brushed her fingers over Theo’s bare shoulder. “Not that I am complaining, or anything.” 

And from there, Theo couldn’t stop thinking. About Frances, about Ana. About the nuances of sexuality, and the confusing time that their teenage years were turning out to be. 

“It’s getting late.” Theo said after Ana’s hand brushed hers once again. She turned on her heel, facing the other girl. “I should probably head home.” 

“Already?” Ana pouted. “Okay, but I will miss you.” She leaned in, kissing Theo’s cheek, and her skin burned from the contact. Not in the usual way it did when Ana touched or kissed her, but in a new way that wasn’t as pleasant. “Text me when you get home safe?” 

“Of course.” 

Theo didn’t text her. 

Theo didn’t text anyone, she hardly spoke to her father. She went straight to her room, laid on her bed, and started thinking. Thinking about Ana and Frances, thinking about… everything. 

* * *

“You said  _ what _ ?”

Frances groaned and flipped onto her front, burying her face into her pillows. Her voice was muffled as she all but screamed, “You heard me.” 

“‘I’m not like you’? Seriously, Franny?” Georges leaned against the bed, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed in front of him.  

“I didn’t mean it!” Frances wiggled until her head was hanging off the bed, next to Georges, her frown looking especially silly upside down. “What am I supposed to do?” 

“Maybe apologize?” Georges suggested. “You were kind of a bitch.” 

Frances nudged his shoulder with her forehead, pouting. “I just… why would he say all of that?” 

“Because you’re obviously crushing on Theodosia?” 

“I am  _ not _ .” 

Georges rolled his eyes, turning to glare at the girl. “Frances, come on. You get jealous as hell over her and Ana -”  

“Because it’s like I’m losing my friend -” 

“Because your crush is dating someone else. Franny, you had me  _ spy  _ on her.” 

“I just want to know if she’s good enough for Theo -” 

“You’re jealous.” Georges’ words held a finality, he was done arguing on the subject. “You’re jealous, you’ve got a crush on a girl for the first time and it can be confusing. Because you don’t think you’re like us.” 

“I’m not gay.” 

“Well, Franny, you’re not very straight either.” 

Frances turned and slid off the bed, standing over him with a glare. “Who are you to dictate my sexuality?” 

Georges held his hands up. “I’m just observing.” 

“Get out.” 

“Frances -”

“ _ Out _ .” Frances stomped a foot and pointed to the door, glaring Georges down. “I’m tired of everyone trying to tell me how I feel, just go away. Theo’s my  _ friend _ , that’s all I want.” 

Her voice was almost confident enough to believe her own words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, I've been feeling v uninspired and down lately - but here we are, I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> lemme know what you think with comments & kudos, or come talk @ me on tumblr: @lafbaeyette


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